


Heal the Hurt

by FudgingPastry



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blood, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Gore, Non-binary character, Nonbinary Character, Other, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 04:05:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4772837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FudgingPastry/pseuds/FudgingPastry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gamzee gets attacked by a troll, but Karkat dives in to save him. When he falls under a killing rage, he turns on Gamzee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heal the Hurt

Gamzee stepped back from Karkat as the body fell to the ground in front of their feet. Their hands were shaking, horror like a cold pit in their stomach, and they risked a glance up at Karkat. His eyes were open wide, pupils thin slits of black in the mutant-red of his blood. Oh Messiahs, his blood was on his arms, on the ground, bleeding out from his shoulder where the other troll ripped through his flesh. Gamzee could see bone through the mess of flesh and he made a sad little noise, their hand pressing to the shallow wound on their chest. At the noise, Karkat’s head swung around in their direction, jaws snapping teeth sharp enough to tear through skin.

Gamzee jumped back as he stepped forward. For every step Gamzee took back, he took two steps forward. His shoulders hunched forward, sickles in both hands. He walked towards them with murder in his eyes, no hint of recognition and no hint of pity. Gamzee felt a sudden terror and a sudden certainty: Karkat would kill them. Karkat would kill them and they knew that he’d hate himself, that he’d do terrible things to himself for hurting them and they couldn’t stand knowing that would happen. Even if they died, they couldn’t let Karkat hurt like that. They swallowed their horror and raised their hands up. Karkat flinched as if he expected them to attack him.

“No, best friend,” they crooned, fighting hard to keep their voice from shaking like they knew it wanted to. “Ain’t no motherfuckers around to hurt you. You got them all, love. Best friend, you got the—“ Their arms went up the moment Karkat lunged for their throat. His sickles dug into their skin and they cried out in pain, but pushed back into it so as to keep him from slicing open their throat. He hissed in their face, snarling and screaming words that weren’t words anymore. In a sudden rage full of fear for their life, Gamzee threw him off. He rolled, back on his feet in the time it took Gamzee to jump onto theirs. They circled each other, Karkat spitting and hissing, Gamzee’s face dark and their arm bleeding purple onto the ground. They kept their hands free, knowing that in some part of their pan they were facing off against Karkat. _Karkat, best friend, warm fire that_ sears _away all hurts,_ and they would not let themself smash his face in because of a killing rage.

“Best friend,” they called again, their voice shaking from the pain. “Pale bro, pale love, I—Karkat!” They screamed at the top of their lungs the moment he lurched forward. He hesitated, stepped wrong, and his foot slid on the bloodstained grass. Gamzee took this chance to lunge forward, clubs in their hands and pan clear of anything other than _Karkat_ , and knocked away his sickles. He came at them with claws, but Gamzee got a hold on his wrists. He came at them with snapping fangs, but Gamzee pulled him close, too close for him to do anything more.

“Pale love,” they crooned, their voice broken and terribly, terribly afraid. Karkat fell silent and Gamzee held their breath; so quiet and so tense and _so afraid for Karkat_ that they almost missed the way Karkat’s body relaxed in their grip.

“G-Gamzee?” Karkat’s voice was small and hoarse and Gamzee finally let loose and cried. Their shoulders shuddered and their arms wrapped so tight around Karkat that he gasped. “Holy shit, Gamzee what… Gamzee? What… what happened?” They winced as Karkat pushed them away, his eyes falling on the cut in their arm. His face contorted with all the emotions rushing through his small body: worry, fear, rage, and a gradual, horrible realization. He started to shove away, muttering, “No, no, no, no, no,” and Gamzee felt something snap deep inside them, utterly terrified that Karkat was going to do something to punish himself for hurting them.

“Hive,” they whispered, frantic as they ripped off their shirt and tied it around their arm to slow the blood flow. “Hive, best friend.” Their arms snaked around him, the one shaking and not quite working properly, and they ran back to Karkat’s hive as quick as they could without passing out. It took several tries for Gamzee to open the door, their arm not holding up Karkat nearly useless, but finally they shoved through it and fell to the floor.

“Best friend,” they called, but Karkat was shaking and afraid, staring at their arm. His claws bit into his skin and miracle red blood welled to the surface. “Karkat, please… _hurts_.” Karkat stared at them, whispering ‘no’ over and over again, and they snarled, “KARKAT!” He snapped to attention, blinking out of the panic he was working himself into.

“Best friend, need you to get up and get me something for my arm. Come on brother, it’s not good and _I need you to do this, brother_.” Their voice was shaking and their arm felt numb and oh Messiahs, they felt like they were going to die. They didn’t notice that Karkat had gone until he came back with emergency supplies. He started in on their arm and messed up twice because his hands were shaking so bad before he got it right. Gamzee checked it over as Karkat rocked back and forth on his heels. They tried to move their fingers. The fingers twitched and Gamzee leaned back with a sigh of relief.

But Karkat… Karkat seemed all kinds of unwell. Gamzee leaned forward, reaching out with their good arm to where Karkat rocked back and forth, back and forth, back and—

“Pale love, shhh, come on here.” Karkat didn’t turn, but his rocking seemed to slow. “Come on here, best friend. Let me take care of your hurts.” His eyes closed and he shook his head, but Gamzee crawled closer, hushing him softly. “I’ve got you, best friend. I’ll have you safe and sound. Yeah, best friend, that’s it. Lemme heal those hurts.”

“I hurt you.” His voice was so soft and quiet that Gamzee almost missed it. Their stunted earfins flicked and they wrapped their entire body around him, caging him in their arms and keeping him safe.

“Yeah,” they agreed and he flinched, but their voice came out again and they hushed him calm. “Yeah, best friend, you hurt me real bad. But that ain’t no problem. Not really. We got me not bleeding so much anymore. See what’cha did?” They lifted up their arm, turning it around so Karkat could see the bandage. There was a faint blotch of purple, but it wasn’t spreading.

“I did that.” He whispered and Gamzee nodded, kissing his hair all pale.

“Yeah, but you got me fixed up too. Got me all fixed up and—“

“But _I did that_ to you! Why is not that going through your head, you dumbass, panleak fr—“

 _“Don’t you motherfucking dare to finish that,”_ they hissed like a slitherbeast aiming to strike. “You hurt me, but you got me fixed up. You attacked me, but that guy attacked me first and you took him down and, Messiahs, pale love, if that wasn’t the most romantic thing I ever did get my experience on of.”

“But—“

“Hush. Hush, my little burning star. I’ve got you and I’ll have you. I’ll fix all these hurts you got yourself in.” As they spoke, they rubbed their fingers in and around the tense spots of him. “Gonna clean your wounds and clean your miracle-red off you. Get you laid out on me and soft as pale, moon-cool sand. Yeah, love, keep making those little noises. I’ve got you.” They cleaned him off, pressing soft kisses to the warm of his skin and he closed his eyes. He was shaking and trembling, but he settled as they worked. They ran their hand over his skin and up his bared neck and they let their other hand rest; let it get back to that dark color as their blood flowed down to the tips of their fingers and back up. They changed their bandage, nodding as no more purple spread out over the white of the cloth.

They bent over him and cleaned his wounds. There were many more on Karkat than there were on Gamzee, but he had been the one fighting. Gamzee noted with a swell of pride that the other guy had twice as many cuts as Karkat did and none of the ones on him were too deep.

“Best friend,” they purred happily. “Look at you. All scuffed up and motherfucking scratched, but no more than just that. Barely got any of your miracle blood out of your body. Messiahs, you saved me. Kept me safe and whole and none of my fear for you was up and caused by that motherfucker’s hands on you. He barely even touched you, my palest brother.” They recited scripture at him, talking of warriors long since passed and Gamzee even dared to wish that he would have a special ticket just for him for the never ending show.

“Gam… zee,” Karkat groaned, peering out of one eye.

“Yeah, best friend?”

“… I’m sorry.” Karkat sighed after a while. Gamzee opened their mouth to tell him _no, no, you did nothing wrong,_ but they stopped themself before they could. They hiked him up in their arms and relaxed against the pile.

“Sun’s coming up,” they murmured into his hair, rubbing his horns. He tweaked their side and they yelped, jerking around surprised.

“Gamzee.” He prompted and they laughed, kissing the side of his cheek.

“Yeah, yeah, brother. I forgive. I’ve got you, pale love, right?”

“Yeah, you’ve got me.”

Gamzee chirred and wrapped their arms around him, kissing him all pale and soft.


End file.
